


Red Like Your Lips

by prettychancellors



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abby gets a surprise, F/M, Jackson loves Marcus' hair, Love Letters, Marcus is just an adorable idiot in love, complete and utter fluff, set between seasons 2 and 3, valentine's day fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettychancellors/pseuds/prettychancellors
Summary: “You haven’t just survived it have you? You’ve been made stronger.” In that moment, with the rose nestled in his fingers and a robin singing peacefully in the distance, he realised with a start that he wasn’t really talking about the rose.





	1. A Gesture

 

  
“I’ll be there in a minute, Harper."

The young guard nodded and left to join the cadets near the firing range, leaving Marcus at the entrance of medical. Unbeknownst to her, the tough military commander was hiding his shaking hands by clutching tightly to a small wooden box.

Making sure she was gone, Marcus opened the latch to medical. Peering inside, he made sure Abby had really gone on that lunch break it took him almost forty minutes to convince her to take. Knowing she wouldn’t take the half an hour he had made her promise, he went quickly about his business, striding over to the doctor’s desk that sat underneath a small window. Standing to the side of the window as to not be seen by any wandering eyes, Marcus rested the wooden box on the desk, sliding the lid off to reveal this morning’s discovery.

 A single red rose, the petals untarnished and the stem long and green, sat delicately inside. He had been on watch early this morning, and had been slightly exasperated when two of his fellow guards would simply _not stop_ talking about how, technically, today was Valentine’s Day. They had not really celebrated the romantic holiday on the ark; it was mostly for serious couples and not an excuse for everyone to get all mushy and give ridiculously frivolous gifts – which is why Marcus had never seen the need to celebrate it himself.

Walking away from the tiresome conversation, Marcus decided to venture beyond the tree line. As he pushed his way up a steep hill, he suddenly noticed yellow and white buds dotting the ground. Reaching down, he caressed a small daisy between his fingers, marvelling at the softness and fragility of the flowers. Looking up at the top of the hill, a single red rose stood proud above the flower covered earth floor, the long stem holding its still unopened petals. Walking up to it, he noticed a few more roses around it, these ones slightly bruised and battered. Crouching down, he admired the stunning flower that had survived.

“All this fighting and violence, and somehow you’ve managed to stay like this. Perfect and beautiful...”

As he muttered to himself, he noticed the coat of ash that covered the ground. Chuckling to himself, he remembered learning about the fertilization properties of ash while on the ark.  
  
“You haven’t just survived it have you? You’ve been made stronger.” In that moment, with the rose nestled in his fingers and a robin singing peacefully in the distance, he realised with a start that he wasn’t really talking about the rose.  
The thought snuck up on him so suddenly that he couldn’t keep it from taking precedence in his mind.

_It’s the same color as her lips._

And as he stood there in the deserted medical centre, the thought came rushing back, causing a blush to paint his cheeks a color that could rival the rose.

Shaking his head, Marcus reminded himself that he needed to hurry before Abby came back. He placed the rose over her neat stack of papers sitting central on the desk. Next to it, he sat a small piece of chocolate they managed to salvage from Mount Weather. It was wrapped in simple silver foil. Marcus knew it wasn’t fancy, but it he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. His mother, Vera, had always told him that Valentine’s Day used to include the giving of flowers and chocolate. Although Marcus had scoffed at the idea (and still does), he knew from several barely concealed hints that Abby _loved_ chocolate. It was rationed, of course, but being the head of the guard had its perks. Beside his gift, he left a small notecard.

 _Abby, you deserve so much more._  

He hadn’t signed it. He simply couldn’t bring himself to – the rose and chocolate were bold enough. There was no mistaking that it was a romantic gesture; Abby wasn’t blind. Her knowing it was from him was simply too much. Although there had been a few times since landing on earth where he had hoped she might return his feelings, Marcus simply couldn’t escape the fact that Abby still wore her dead husband’s ring around her neck. He knew it was a sentimental habit, and had he been any other man, perhaps it wouldn’t have been a barrier. But Marcus had been almost directly involved in Jake’s death. And so, every time he allowed himself to entertain the notion of him and Abby being something more _,_ the ring would remind him to stop being an idiot. 

_Just because I can’t have her, it doesn’t mean she shouldn’t feel wanted._

As he gathered up the empty box in his arms, he jumped when he heard the door latch open.

To his relief, it was only Jackson who walked in.

“Jackson, I was just, ah –”

There was really no point in lying, he knew. The red of the rose stood out starkly against the old grey and faded blue that branded the room.

Taking in Jackson’s barely concealed smirk, Marcus tried anyway.

“I just...Abby wasn’t in...I mean...”  
  
“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” Jackson’s smile now lit up his entire face, finding the situation utterly amusing.  
  
“Thanks,” Marcus mumbled under his breath, “I didn’t...I mean, I don’t want her to know it’s from me. It’s just a...gesture, to say thank you for everything she does for...for the camp.” Marcus knew his cheeks were a fiery red by now, and his feet itched to get out of there.

“I said don’t worry, I promise she won’t hear a word from me.”  
  
Marcus nodded, feeling more assured at his affirmations. Walking to the door, he refused to acknowledge Jackson’s quip that followed.

“By the way, hair’s looking good these days, Kane! Style it for Valentine’s Day?”

 

* * *

 

Marcus busied himself with training after that. Trying to get his nerves under control, he ran the cadets through their exercises. He barely noticed himself speaking a bit more forcefully than he normally would, desperately trying to replace his thoughts of Abby with the more familiar task of strict military paces. Too nervous to look over at the window, where he knew he would see her reaction through the aged glass, he tried to fix his eyes on the scene in front of him. “That’s it Wilson, make sure both of your eyes are open before hitting your target.”

In his concentration, Marcus almost missed Abby’s radiant smile as she smelled the rose, the soft petals brushing her lips as her eyes tilted up to find his.


	2. A Chancellor and Her Councillor

 

Walking back into medical, Abby did a quick surveillance of the area. She had, for once, no patients to attend to. Things had been surprisingly calm in Arkadia since their newfound peace with the grounders. Indeed, Abby couldn’t remember back to a time when medical had been this quiet, even while on the ark.

Resolving to catch up on some paperwork, she made her way over to her desk. It didn’t take long for the bright red flower to catch her eye. Wrapping her fingers around the stem, she lifted it up in the glow of sunlight that streamed through the window. The sun had just begun to set, and the pinkness of the light complimented the crimson of the flower. It’s petals were still tucked in, protecting its center, but Abby recognised what she was holding.

_A rose. For Valentine’s day._

A blush crept up her neck as she lifted the rose to take in its scent, her heart starting to beat a little faster as she realized someone had purposely left it for _her_. As the rich floral scent overwhelmed her senses, she lifted her eyes to the scene beyond the glass. Marcus stood in the center of the training grounds, walking slowly past his guards, giving them encouragement as they shot their weapons. He looked distracted, she thought, almost anxious as he strode across the line.

Without any kind of warning, his eyes lifted to meet her gaze, the untamed curl that she had always admired hiding a portion of his face. Abby suddenly understood – from the uneasy but innocent expression on his face – what exactly she held in her grasp. They had looked at each other like this before, holding each other’s gaze for much longer than was appropriate for a chancellor and her councillor. Their gazes were often ones of reassurance and comfort. Sometimes they were ones that spoke words too dangerous to say out loud as they dealt with their new situation on the ground. Yet other times, and perhaps more commonly now, their gazes were marked by a smile, tinged with a certain lightness and, dare she say it, flirtatiousness.

But nothing could have prepared her for those few seconds as Marcus’ eyes bored into her own. It was not comfort or even flirtatiousness that was conveyed, but rather that of intense longing.

_The rose is from him._

Their eye contact broke as Marcus attended to a young boy having difficulties loading his rifle. Looking down, Abby noticed the small piece of chocolate and notecard for the first time. If she thought her heart would explode before, she was certainly not prepared to read a _love letter._ Opening the note, she took in the singular line.

_“Abby, you deserve so much more.”_

The message was sweet, but after their powerful moment just seconds ago, she would be lying is she hadn’t expected more...passionate words.

_And he hasn’t even signed it._

_Idiot man._

* * *

 

 

Abby waited until at least eight o’clock that night to leave medical – although it was still quiet, she was a professional, and she would never forgive herself if someone needed her help and they found her asleep in her quarters instead. When eight o’clock arrived, and with it Jackson, she knew that she wasn’t going straight to her quarters anyway.  
  
No, she had something to straighten out first.

“Will you be alright working the night shift alone?”

“Really, Abby? We don’t have one patient. I’m pretty sure I can handle inventory by myself.” Jackson said with a humourless smile. _No one_ liked doing inventory.

“I know, it’s just...” Abby paused, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

 “What is it? You’ve left me to do night shifts before.” Jackson threw her a confused glance.

 “Well, it’s Valentine’s Day, and you’re young, I guess I just thought...maybe there was someone you wanted to spend it with?” Abby said teasingly, trying to lighten the direction the conversation had taken.

“Really Abby? I didn’t think you observed Valentine’s at all. And no, I don’t have any hot plans for tonight.” Jackson joked, his usual smile assuring her he was fine.  
“You, however...”

“Jackson.” Abby warned.

“You think I didn’t see it?” Jackson nodded his head over to where the rose now stood in a vase of water.

“It’s nothing, it’s...I don’t even know who it’s from.” Abby lied.

“Sure, Abby.” Jackson countered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Look, you go have a great time with mystery man, and I’ll keep myself busy counting bandages, got it?”

“There is no mys – ”

“Go, Abby.”

 

* * *

 

She knew _where_ her feet had been taking her. She even knew _why_. But what she didn’t know was how she had convinced herself was a good idea. Knowing the rose was from Marcus was one thing, but confronting him about it when he had obviously wanted it to be anonymous was another situation altogether.

Arriving at the chancellor’s door, Abby didn’t bother to knock as the latch hissed open. Although she was technically the Chancellor, there was no denying that they _both_ shared the role now. Abby knew she would find him there – going over some kind of expansion plans late into the night.

“Hey.” Abby greeted Marcus’ back.

Turning around, a look of surprise graced his face, “Abby! I, uh, didn’t expect to see you tonight, I thought you would be –“

“Medical’s empty, Jackson’s taking the night shift anyway.” Abby quickly explained.

“Oh, that’s...good. You should get some sleep then.”

Abby knew he was avoiding her. Normally, they cherished these quiet moments together after a long day, catching up on camp gossip and, of course, more important things like security or the water supply. But mostly, they liked to just _be._ Lately, there was a lot more laughter than there was during that first stressful month on the ground. Now, they would often catch themselves caught in the other’s gaze as their heartfelt laughter died down to a faint giggle. And then it would happen again – that awkward ‘ _there, but not quite there’,_ moment that held the promise of something more as they self-consciously flitted their eyes away from lips and down to the floor.

But now, that had changed. _Not quite there_ had quickly become _now,_ and both of them were unsure how to proceed.

“I’m not really that tired.” Abby said, strolling over to the couch and sinking into the soft cushions.

“You’re always tired, Abby. You push yourself too much, you need to take a break every now and then.”

“I do, I have my own quarters right near medical now. And I _do_ take breaks, Marcus.”

“Not nearly enough, Abby, you deserve more – ” Marcus cut himself off swiftly, realizing the phrasing he had chosen.

His slip didn’t go unnoticed.

After a few beats had passed, she decided to dive in head first.

_I have to say something._

“Someone left a rose on my desk today, a bright red one.”  
  
Abby watched in amusement as Marcus’ face also turned a bright red, turning it away so that his face was shrouded by the dark green of the map that stood between them.

“They left a note, too, but...no name.” Abby kept prodding, getting up from the couch and walking slowly over to where he stood starring intently at the map. His mouth obviously dry, he took a large gulp of water from the glass sitting beside him.

“I was kind of hoping for a  _signed_ confession of love, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.” Abby joked, quickly regretting her bluntness when Marcus began to choke on the water.

“Are you ok? Marcus,” Abby patted him firmly on the back, trying to get the coughing to stop, “That’s it, get it all out.” Her voice had quickly switched to doctor mode, whispering words of comfort as he regained his composure.

Once he had ceased coughing, she looked up at him with obvious guilt, worried she had pushed too far. But, she had come here for a reason, and damn it, she was going to get an answer.

“Marcus, why didn’t you sign it?” Her hands now moved from his back and over his shoulder until they rested over his chest. Abby felt his pounding heart then, as his hands ghosted over the cotton on her lower back. They found themselves in an intimate position, their chests mere inches away, their lips not far behind.

“I don’t know what you’re...” Marcus’ voice had become a whisper as he failed to look her in the eye.

“Marcus, please don’t,” Abby whispered back, her voice serious as she pleaded with him, “Just tell me.”  
  
Silence hung in the air, sharp and painfully obvious. Despite standing still, their breathing had become laboured, the physical closeness of the other threatening to finish the conversation for them.

Suddenly nudging her away, Marcus looked pained as Abby let out a faint moan at the loss of contact. With an intense and saddened gaze, he spoke his next words with conviction, “Because I know you don’t feel the same way.”

Before Abby could process his cutting words, Jackson crashed through the door.  
  
“Abby! It’s Nate Miller, he’s been in an accident with the rover. He needs surgery, NOW!”


	3. Not a Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely and kind comments <3 <3 <3 I really didn't mean for this fic to get angsty (or maybe it's just in my head ;) Hopefully there's still enough fluff cause we all deserve kabby fluffiness <3  
> Hope you enjoy the final chapter x

 

The surgery took longer than expected.

The crash had done significant damage to the boy’s abdomen, and it took Abby and Jackson five long hours to stop the internal bleeding and get him into a stable condition. But he was a fighter – he would live. At least that’s what Abby assured David Miller as he stood rigid by his son’s bedside.  
  
“He’s strong, not anyone could have survived that surgery.” Abby wasn’t in a mood to mince words – and she needed to express that what happened today was dangerous. They couldn’t afford any more of their people dying – and driving recklessly through unmapped territory was not exactly a worthy cause for death.

When Jackson offered to stay and watch him for the rest of the night, Abby had fought against his suggestion. However, she had lost the war of logic when he pointed out it was his normal shift anyway.

“I’m the head of medical, Jackson, he needs me to be here.”

“He’s stable. If anything goes wrong, there’s nothing you could do that I can’t.”

Knowing he was right, Abby looked stubbornly down at her blood stained shoes.

“Fine, but if anything _does_ go wrong, you’ll come and find me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Jackson said with understanding.

 Heading out of medical, Abby stepped out into the cool breeze that swept Arkadia, the stupefying silence indicating that it could only be very early morning.  
  
Abby looked down at her watch. 2 AM.

The adrenaline of the day’s events suddenly caught up with her, crashing over her into a million pieces of exhaustion and anger. The excitement of Marcus' gift. The anticipation of his kiss. The confusion and hurt when that kiss was quickly replaced with a sentence so false she feared he may never believe the truth. And then Miller. The blood, the staggering internal damage caused by a few seconds of recklessness. The sheer physical strength it took to operate for that long. The sheen of David’s tears as he was told to say goodbye to his son _just in case_.

The tears did not come delicately, instead spilling over her cheeks in a rush of fatigue. Feeling her legs about to give out, she grappled behind her for the iron of the building’s walls, leaning against it for support. She did not sit down. If she did, she knew she would never get up. Brushing her hands furiously against her wet cheeks, she tried in vain to remove loose strands of hair from her face. Giving up, a new bout of tears blurred her vision. 

“Abby?”  
  
Forcing herself to stop whimpering, Abby looked up. Through her misty vision, she saw Marcus standing not three feet away.

“Marcus. What are you doing out here? It’s late.” She argued, now intent on drying her cheeks.  
  
“I had to stay up until I knew Nate was ok. He is, isn’t he?” While Marcus’ initial greeting had been marked with the sound of guilt, Abby knew he was genuinely concerned for the boy.

“Yes, he made it. He’s strong.” As the last word left her mouth, Abby’s voice faltered with emotion.

“Hey,” Marcus soothed as he stepped forward into her personal space, arms open, “It’s going to be o –“

Before she could even think about what she was doing, Abby moved out of his reach, stepping to the side.

“No!”

“Abby?” The expression on his face would haunt her for the remainder of the night, but she simply _did not_ have the energy to tell him how wrong he was about her.

As much as she wanted to crawl into his arms, making herself small enough to hide from the realities of this world, she knew they could not start off like that. Marcus was _important_ , he was _different_ , and he was _real._ And she would _not_ begin something with him tonight, even something as innocent as a cuddle, when he thought she did not love him. There would be a time to set him straight, but that time was not now.

So instead, in her drained and delirious state, she uttered,  
“You had no right to tell me how I feel,” as she walked determinedly back to her quarters.

  

* * *

  

Marcus lay on his bed, his body exhausted but his mind alert. He could not stop himself from worrying about what he had done to elicit such a response from Abby.

In the back of his mind, though, he _knew_. He knew it had been him pushing her away, accusing her of not returning his feelings.

 _Hell, even if she doesn’t love me, Abby would still be angry with someone for telling her how she felt,_ thought Marcus with grim amusement.

When she had come to him hours before, her eyes filled with mirth at the prospect of getting him to admit his Valentine’s gift, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t _hoped._ Hoped that she came to return his feelings. But then he saw the ring resting on the chain, looped eternally around her neck, and he panicked that her playfulness was not flirtatious but amusement at his expense. Oh, he knew she could never _mean_ to hurt his feelings, but laughing it off would be her way of moving on, letting him know that friends is all they ever could be.

And so he had said it, pushed her away, told her point blank why he had not signed that note.

But tonight, out there in the dead of the night, Abby had seemed so genuinely hurt. He knew she was exhausted after surgery, but he knew her well enough to know that the usual exuberance she usually felt after a successful surgery was nowhere to be found.

Turning is head to find the clock, Marcus sighed when he realised he would not be getting any sleep that night.

Pulling himself off the bed with a groan, he made his way over to the metal table that displayed a messy array of expansion plans and scouting reports. Taking a bank piece of paper, he sat on one of the stools. 

_“I was kind of hoping for more of a signed confession of love, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.”_

Her teasing voice echoed through his sleep-deprived mind, taunting him, making him wish he had the guts to have simply _signed_ the damn thing.

  _Abby, you deserve so much more._ Marcus laughed out loud then, remembering the stupid note he had left. The ironic thing was that she _did_ deserve more.

 “More than a vague, one-lined note and a single flower.” Marcus chided himself.

 Grabbing a pen and shaking out his bed-flattened hair, he knew what he had to do.

 

_Dear Abby,_

_What I said last night may have come across as too assuming, so please, let me try to explain._

_The thing is, I know who you are. You’re a mother, a doctor, a chancellor, a role model for the kids and our entire camp. You’re a survivor, you’re a fighter, a leader. But you are all of these things because of who you are inside: selfless, strong, wilful, smart, resilient, and loving. And I know who I am. I’m someone who used to lock good people up and throw away the key. I’m someone who has killed hundreds of innocent people and condemned more to die. I’m someone who shock lashed you over and over and over again. I’m someone who I know you could never love because someone like_ you _never chooses someone like_ me.

_I’m sorry if I caused you any kind of pain with my gift. When I found that rose up on a hill, standing alone and beautiful and strong, it reminded me so much of you. It’s elegance, it’s stature – it was fitting for a queen. Just like you. I know we said we would not be like them, the grounders, but if they have a queen, then you deserve to be ours. When I was carrying that rose back home to you, I could not help but marvel at it’s deep red color; it’s petals reminded me of your lips. The problem is, Abby, everything reminds me of you, I just can’t escape it._

_I love you. I’m_ in _love with you. I can’t say when it happened, only that it did. I think perhaps it was the feel of your heartbeat as I held your hand back from Mount Weather, assuring me that you were alive. Then I think of the strength in your voice as you address our people, leading them with integrity and grace. And then I think of how you smile at me when it’s just us._

_So this is my signed confession of love. But please know, this is not a love letter. My mother once told me that a love letter was between two people who love each other, and my dear Abby, I do not write with the expectation of my feelings being returned. Your life is your own; I am merely expressing my joy at being able to witness it._

_Yours always,  
Marcus_

* * *

In the morning, Marcus left the letter in the chancellor’s room, sat atop the reports he had finished last night that he knew she would have to read later today. There had been a moment of hesitation before he realized there was no going back – even if Abby never read the letter, he had finally admitted it to himself and all of his supressed feelings were now written clearly in black and white.

But there was no way he was going to be there when she read it. He would go up against an army of grounders, face a mountain full of people feverish with bloodlust, or freefall to earth in a hundred year self space station, but there was _no way_ he was sticking around for this.

Marcus now stood on guard just outside Arkadia’s fences. Looking at the setting sun, he calculated that Abby would have been in the chancellor’s room for at least two hours. She would normally be expecting him in about ten minutes as the shifts rotated and Miller took his place. Since Miller’s incapacitation, he saw Bellamy’s mob of curly hair make its way over, an easy smile greeting him.

“How’s Nate?” Marcus wasted no time in asking after the boy’s health.

“He’s eating, which is apparently a miracle so soon after the surgery. I guess Jackson didn’t realise how much the guy can eat.”

“Jackson’s in with him?”

“Yeah, Dr Griffin was there until a few hours ago. I think she’s in the chancellor’s room waiting for you.” Bellamy said with a quiet smirk, a teasing tone obvious in his voice.

 _Jackson better not have said anything, I_ knew _I should have locked the door yesterday._

“Thanks, uh, are you sure you’re fine to take the night shift?”

At Bellamy’s firm nod, he handed over his rifle. As Marcus strolled towards the ark’s wreckage, he considered not going to see Abby.

_Stop it! It’s not like you can avoid her forever._

Resolutely changing his path, he made his way towards the chancellor’s room.

Arriving at the door he knew she was behind, he had to stop to collect himself.

_She knows everything now. There’s nothing to hide behind._

Hesitantly pushing the door open, the latch hissed, announcing his presence. Walking in, he looked up and saw the reports untouched. Glancing across the room, he saw her sitting on the couch.

His letter clutched tightly in her hands.

She had obviously been crying, the redness of her eyes and the flush of her cheeks gave her away. But instead of tears, her eyes carried a surplus of silent words she tried to fit into one expression. It was one of utter tenderness, trust, and earnestness as she rose to meet him halfway across the room.

“I’m sorry, if it was too much, I...I just didn’t know how else to – ”

 Marcus stopped his mumbling as he felt her hands grasp his shoulders, a position that echoed that of night before.

 “Shhh. Let me show you how I _do_ feel.” Abby whispered ardently.

 Had he been given enough time, Marcus could have sworn he saw Abby’s eyes moisten and her lips tremble slightly. However, his mind ceased to measure such intricacies as he felt her lips brush across his cheek.

Abby pressed the lightest of kisses against his skin, opening and closing her lips slowly. As a sigh escaped his mouth, he could not help but wrap his arms around her waist, moving his head down to give her better access. Taking advantage of the change, Abby wrapped her fingers around locks of his hair, pulling his head down so she could map a trail of kisses from his cheek to his eyebrow, now pressing feverish kisses in the wake of his encouragement. As she made her way down to his other cheek and arched her back so her front was pressed up against his, Marcus decided that he simply could not be passive. Angling his head towards her lips, her kisses reached the corner of his lip. Slowing down, she moved a few inches back, their eyes locking.

“I love you, too.” She whispered.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Marcus crashed his lips to hers in a blaze of heat and vigour. Their lips duelled for leverage, sucking and nibbling, licking and tasting. As one of Abby’s hands pulled his head towards hers, the other found it’s way down to his chest, feeling it heave and thud harder than she had ever felt it do so before. His hands pulled her completely against him, their bodies close and breathing as one.

After minutes, or hours, Marcus was not sure, they pulled away as their foreheads rested against each other.

From his angle, Marcus had a perfect view of her swollen lips. And for a moment, he thought of the rose petals, red and flush.

Her small contented smile giving him courage, he ran a finger over her bottom lip, tracing it just as he had with the rose petals.

“They’re so perfect. _You’re_ so perfect.”

“Marcus,” Abby almost whimpered his name, breathless from their kisses, “I’m _not_ perfect. No one on this earth is. That’s why we can say _yes_ to each other, why we can _love_ each other. You can’t think of yourself as undeserving anymore. I love you because of who you are, the man you’ve become.” 

At her words, Marcus felt his eyes welling with tears. Speechless, he gathered her up in his arms again, kissing her senseless.

Stumbling over to the couch, each blinded by the other’s undivided attention, Marcus felt her smile under his lips. 

“What is it?” Marcus asked shyly.

“Nothing,” Abby almost giggled, “It’s just...I haven’t really got to tease you for being such a big romantic yet. I mean, you even left _chocolate,_ Marcus.” 

Her smile assuring him, he laid her down on the soft cushions, this time peppering _her_ with soft, unrelenting kisses over her cheeks and jawline.

“Shush you.” He beamed, and kissed her till dawn.


End file.
